


Snow

by MythopoeticReality



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell & Related Fandoms, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 18:18:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13172538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MythopoeticReality/pseuds/MythopoeticReality
Summary: “There is a girl down there.” He said. “She came with others, but she was the only one bold enough to move forward.”I froze where I was, turning back to look at him. While he was still gazing out towards our camp, I could see in the way he held himself that he was waiting for some response from me, wanting to know if I was listening.“What are you saying?” I prodded, “Who are you talking about?”He turned back to me, shrugging. “They came from the village. I do not know why, perhaps to see who we were. Most of them hung back but one moved forward. She danced with one of the men. Is still dancing with him, even now. By morning she will die.”





	Snow

She was marble upon the snow, pale and lifeless and cold as it. No. Paler, for while her skin had leeched all of it’s color to a flat white, the drifts of ice surrounding her blazed red beneath the rising sun.My fingers trembled as I knelt down in the bloody snow and reached out for her, just brushing against her arm. My stomach twisted to feel her flesh give, soft as any woman’s.

I forced another breath in, past my chest, drawing my hand back, my nails biting into my palms. I cast a glance over my shoulder, but even the birds fled when I had come. A few feathers floated on the air, banners snapped in the wind. In the distance, the shadow shapes of men moved about unmaking their camp.

They left her here, where she had fallen. Like children with a shattered pot or a broken doll, fleeing to avoid trouble. They did not understand  _what_  they had done. They did not see it as so wrong,  _she_ had come to  _them_ after all. Even the King would see it so. But  _I_  would not, and they knew it, and as much as the King was a Magician,  _I_  was one as well, and  _I_ was a warrior, and above all else,  _I_  had the King’s ear.  

Casting a last burning glare towards the backs of the soldiers, I turned back to the woman. My gaze softened as I looked upon her. A  sigh escaped me. “They were not meant to do this.” I murmured, shaking my head. 

I leaned forward, brushing a long strand of hair from her face, dark as the raven feathers that fluttered around her. My lips twisted, thinning into a hard line as they pressed into one another. My throat drew as I swallowed. For a moment I hesitated there, just looking at her, before my gaze flicked inward and I fell back again, away from her and back to the edges of her pool of blood.

“You were not supposed to be here.”

I cannot say how long I sat there like that, silent and motionless. A flash of black out of the corner of my vision brought me once more out of my thoughts. I refused to look, at first. To aknowledge his presence there. I knew who he was, of course. I knew him too long not to recognize him. I knew the look that would be on his face as he watched me as well. It would be that same look he gave me while we sat away from all of this, looking across the whole of the valley and speaking. When he first mentioned…

It would be that same look. His head just edging to one side, his brows just beginning to draw together as he struggled to hide it. That  _perplexity_ he felt. The fact that he  _didn’t_  understand. After all, he  _was_  The Raven King! The rain and the wind, the earth and the sky, every bird, beast, and fish in England would answer to his call and act as his servant. He knew them and how their minds worked. How could there be  _anything_  he did not understand?

Arrogant bastard. 

The worst of it was how often I found myself wondering the same thing. 

* * *

I found him that evening out beyond the edges of our camp. There was a hill not far off that overlooked the surrounding moors – our people, the flickering lights of the village not far off, the rolling silver-tinged field of snow that reached off towards the horizon. In the sky above the stars gleamed, cold and silent as distant chips of ice, watching us. The moon was full, and her light lept up from the snow bright and clear enough for me to easily see by

As the wind swept through, cold biting at me to my very bones, I pulled my cloak more tightly around myself. My feet crunched across the snow as my eyes scanned through the darkened land surrounding me. Even my breath turned to silver mist in the night.

_Where has he gotten to now?_  A sharp click escaped from the corner of my lips, and I raised my hands to my mouth, rubbing them together and hoping to breathe some life back into them as I searched. I knew well enough by now, of course, that he could take well enough care of himself, and yet…

I did not like to leave him alone. Not in a world he had never set foot in before – not within memory, at least –  and not now, especially, in the midst of war. I think of him too much as my own, I know, but it is difficult not to. I have been with him from the moment he was first brought into the brugh, or so it seems, how can I feel any other way towards him?

I found him, soon enough. Saw upon the crest of the hill the crouching shape of him, set black against the snow. I began climbing to approach him.

He did not look back to me as he heard the thin crust of ice that had formed over the snow breaking beneath my boots. He only rolled his eyes back towards me as I knelt down and took my place just behind him, murmuring his name softly in greeting.

There was a moment’s silence, and his head just dipped downwards for a moment as his eyes turned back away from me once more. “That is not who I am, Thomas,” he murmured, the words carrying the well worn edge of ritual to them by now.

“No?” My lips quirked upwards into a smirk, “No. It is not. What shall I call you then?”

As they always did the words only prompted a soft snort and an irritated wave of his hand, as though the question were a particularly annoying fly, buzzing in his ear and bothering him with insignificant matters.

Another moment passed in silence, where he edged backwards, nearer to me.

“What are you doing out here?” I asked him.

He gave only a shrug in response. “Why are  _you_  out here?” He spoke the words as if they were the more proper question. I rolled my eyes.

“I was searching for you.”

“There are easier ways.” He said.

Now it was my turn to shrug. “I prefer my way.”

His eyes flickered back towards me there was just a fraction of a moment’s hesitance before he ventured a thought, “You would rather…walk across English soil now that you are back?”

“Perhaps.” It was true that the air tasted different here, and the sunlight seemed to have a different quality to it than it did in Faerie. It was familiar to me… _almost._  “This is not my home, however. I have no memories of this place.”

“Hrmmm…”

Silence descended over us again.  For a few moments I let it settle, absently tracing through the snow as I watched my King. Again his gaze had shifted more fully out across the night, to the moors, our camp and the village below.

“It is quiet out here.” I said, “Good for thinking.”

For the first time that night a wry smile crept it’s way across the face of the boy beside me. He turned, slowly, to stare at me, his eyebrows nearly reaching his hairline. “It  _was.”_  he said.

“Oh, come off it!” I said, shoving at his shoulder, “you are grateful for my company and you know it.”

“Mmmm… _Perhaps_ …” he said. At that very moment the wind picked up, snatching at my cloak and clawing through my clothes to my flesh beneath. The wind tore my cloak off of my shoulders, sending it flying off and dying down only as the garment settled about a yard off down from us. I turned, shivering, to shoot my King a glare. He only stared back at me with wide-eyed innocence.

“Don’t look at me like that.” I grumbled, shaking my head and pushing myself back onto my feet as I marched down the hillside back to retrieve my cloak.

“Like what?” He said.

With a snap of my wrist I dismissed the words. Leaning down I snapped my cloak up off the ground to shake the clinging snow from it. The broken, rusted brooch that had been holding it on my shoulders – and had been in perfect condition before – fell to the ground.

I snatched the brooch up into my hand and settled myself back beside my King. “You know what. Explain  _this.”_

He only shrugged, “You needed a new cloak clasp, obviously. I can make you one, if that is what you want.” To his credit, I must say, he managed to keep an impressively straight face while saying it.

As he began reaching for the rusted pieces I snatched my hand back and pulled the rough wool of my cloak all the tighter around me. “Bastard.” I muttered.

He said nothing to this, only smirking and turning back towards the night once more.

As he did that, I muttered a few words over the broken pieces of my brooch, reminding them that they belonged together, and re-fastened the cloak around my shoulders. The smile had faded once more from the King’s features by the time I looked back towards him, replaced once again by his usual pensive look.

I sighed, my brows drawing together as I wondered what it was that had brought him up here in the first place. What it was that was going through his mind. “What is it that you are looking at?” I asked him.

Time passed and he didn’t turn back towards me. He remained silent as I waited for some response. Finally, just as I was about to give up hope on receiving any answer,he turned and cast a glance back towards me over his shoulder. “Them, below.” He nodded, off towards the camp and then the lights of the village.

“I  _had_  guessed at that much.” I drawled.

“Then why are you asking?” Already he’d turned away from me again.

A long sigh escaped me and I only shook my head, deciding to leave it. I knew well enough by now that this was really the best response I could give. He’d say only as much as he wished, and if he wished to reveal more later, well…then he would.

And so he looked back into the night, and I sat with him, waiting, just letting the moments pass. It seemed however that he was finished with me, and the cold was growing to be too much, even if it seemed not to bother him.  I was about to leave, moving back to my knees and from there my feet again, as I heard the murmuring strains of my King’s voice.

“There is a girl down there.” He said. “She came with others, but she was the only one bold enough to move forward.”

I froze where I was, turning back to look at him. While he was still gazing out towards our camp, I could see in the way he held himself that he was waiting for some response from me, wanting to know if I was listening.

“What are you saying?” I prodded, “Who are you talking about?”

He turned back to me, shrugging. “They came from the village. I do not know why, perhaps to see who we were. Most of them hung back but one moved forward. She danced with one of the men. Is still dancing with him, even now. By morning she will die.”

He spoke the words so matter-of-factly. As though he were describing some curious insect or cloud formation that he’d seen, rather than a human life. I felt my stomach drop, the words sticking in my throat for a moment as I stared at my King. I was used to such things by now, or I should have been. It was no surprise to hear them spoken by the Sidhe, but the King was human as I.

Or, it was easy to think of him so.

But no, looking at him now, seeing the way he was staring at me in that blinking manner, his head edging to one side, his brows just beginning to knot together as he struggled to hide that he did not understand…

I pushed myself to my feet, shaking my head. Gripping my cloak more tightly around me, I spun on my heel and swept off, without another word, down the hillside and skipping the space between, I arrived back at the edge of our camp. The sun was beginning to rise as I strode onward, gilding the snow. Ravens fled at my approach, and I encountered no sign of Fairy life.  And then I saw her, lying prone across the ground. All of the space around her was stained red, and she was as marble upon the snow, pale and lifeless and cold.

* * *

I looked up to see the King, watching me with that same expression I knew would be upon his face. I held his gaze for a full minute, before shaking my head and turning away. A long sigh escaped me. My gaze darted up towards the heavens – The last stars were fading, their cold gaze melting away in the morning’s first light – then back to the girl. I raked a hand through my hair, and then letting out another long, shaking breath, moved to lay the girl’s arms across her chest. Others would come looking for her soon enough. Her family would find her and they would bury her.

I pushed myself to my feet, only stopping as I moved to stand before my King. By now, any attempt to hide his confusion was gone. He pressed his lips together, opening his mouth to speak, before shaking his head and starting over again. “Have I said – ”

“Nothing.” I muttered, shaking my head and sweeping onwards. How could I explain something to him that should have come so naturally? I heard a low hum press past his lips, he knew that I was not telling him something, but he pressed no further. I felt his eyes on the back of my head – could just imagine he way he narrowed them at me, as though I were a riddle he were attempting to unravel –  before in the next moment he was striding past me.  

“Come,” he muttered, “We are heading out now, we need to be gone within the next hour.”

I gave a low grunt and nodded. Before long, we were gone, leaving only the girl to be found by her family.


End file.
